


Pack Street: Through The Looking Glass

by MisterEAnon



Series: Pack Street: Through The Looking Glass [1]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 05:38:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8000533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterEAnon/pseuds/MisterEAnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a weather malfunction wears Remmy down at his usual resting spot on his walk home from work, he feels like he's about to roast alive in the heat. But when a wolf invites him to stay with her to wait out the problem, will Remmy find something more then just a helping paw in her?</p>
<p>(I have always regarded this series as a particularly masturbatory thing to write, but it's very fun to write.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pack Street: Through The Looking Glass

Flock Street held a lot of memories.

Some good. Some bad. But a lot of them were a lot better then the memories I was getting out of Pack Street.

Flock Street was only a few streets away from Pack Street. It was along the route I took on my way to work. And it was an ideal spot to stop on the way home for a rest, most of the time.

At least, that's what I believed at first. Now, if I was going to be honest with myself, it was a peerless place to internally mope about my situation.

Pack Street wasn't awful. And the predators living there weren't as awful as I'd expected, going on. But there was still a tension there that made life uncomfortable, with everything going on in the news.

More often then not, I ended up wishing life was simple like it used to be. And I ended up doing that mostly when I was stopping in my old home.

Of course, today was a little different. It was hot.

Too hot.

There was 'An unusually intense heat wave blowing in from Sahara Square,' which 'Couldn't be fixed until the current weather cycle has ceased operation'. Or at least, that's what the news said.

So here I was, sweating my wool off. Or what little it was left- It still hadn't really grown back since my recent shaving. I usually felt a little self conscious about being so vulnerable, but back on Flock Street it wasn't so bad.

Plus it meant I wasn't quite cooking to death like I would have been if I still had my full coat around me. It still felt like I was getting there, though.

I slumped back against my favorite bench. I wasn't attached it from my Flock Street days, or anything, but it had proved to be a very nice spot to rest most days on my way back home.

The heat sapped my energy, turning me lethargic. I just didn't have the willpower to get up and go home, if it would involve another twenty minutes of walking. That turned out to be a mistake, of course.

The heat only seemed to get worse. I could see the haze in the air, shimmering and distorting my vision through it like a lens. I already knew that there was no chance I'd get home without passing out from heat stroke in weather like this. Sheep weren't really built for high temperatures.

I'd screwed up.

I'd just about resigned myself to passing out on my bench and hoping that I wouldn't be too heavily cooked when I woke up when someone spoke behind me.

“Hey.”

 

 

I jumped. That was entirely unexpected to me- People just didn't sneak up on people on Flock Street. They usually couldn't, with the sound of their hooves giving them away.

But I did know what kind of animal could stalk up silently behind an innocent sheep to harass them, so I was only half surprised to turn and see a predator behind me. “Oh. Hey.”

I wasn't exactly feeling up to stimulating conversation. Not that I could exactly give the pundits a run for their money at the best of times.

Fortunately, it didn't seem like I had to. “It's pretty hot out here. You, uh… You wanna come inside for a while? Let the heat wave pass?” She seemed a little shy in asking, not quite managing to meet my eye.

And I guess she kind of had a point. Before pack street, I wouldn't have given second thought to it. I'd have refused point blank to let a predator in Flock Street lead me away to some private spot where no one would ever find my body.

I stood up. “Yeah, thanks,” I murmured, managing to inject some genuine gratitude into my voice. The wolf seemed surprised that I'd accepted, for some reason. What, did she think I'd rather turn into a roast lamb?

I reflected on the idea that there was a time that would have been true as she lead me inside. Personal growth, and all that. She seemed plenty happy about it too, either unable or unwilling to hide the way her tail wagged behind her. It was mildly endearing, in a 'cute stranger' kind of way.

Coming into the air conditioning was sweet, sweet relief. “Thanks. Uh, sorry for being so sweaty,” I apologized to my host. I was getting pretty used to sweating after a week of joining Avo in her workout routine, but that didn't mean I wanted to get it on her furniture.

For some reason, she blushed. The red tint only barely shown through her dark fur. “Oh, no- That's fine. Perfectly fine,” she replied, glancing off in the direction of what was probably kitchen, based on what I could see from here. “You want me to get you a drink or something? Maybe some food?”

She sounded a little nervous at first, the first time she'd started talking again since she let me in, but any anxiety in her tone rapidly faded away. I couldn't imagine why- Sheep weren't very threatening, especially to someone who lived on Flock Street. I thought about being suspicious, but as hot as I was, I couldn't really muster the energy to be paranoid. Maybe I could have managed it if she was more obviously threatening, but she wasn't that much bigger then I was (And certainly smaller then Betty), and her posture seemed fairly subdued for a predator. As it was...

I was more then happy to splay myself across the couch, lying down and letting the heat rise off me. “Maybe a drink,” he acknowledged. “But, uh… I don't think I could eat any predator food.”

To be honest, I really didn't need anyone else to know about my wannabite diet. As nice a host as this wolf was being, it just wasn't really worth the risk.

She perked up. “Oh! I have plenty of sheep food.”

I stared at her. “You do?”

For some reason, she only seemed to blush harder. “Uh… Just in case a guest comes by. And most of my guests would be sheep, so…”

I guess that made sense. But, honestly… After being able to indulge with real (insect) meat with cheese semi-regularly, I wasn't sure if I could really indulge in regular prey food as any kind of pick-me-up.

She had obviously relaxed by now, with whatever anxiety she'd had letting me in having long faded away, and I couldn't help but feel relaxed as well when there was no obvious tension in the air. But no amount of relaxation would make me blurt out my shameful diet on a whim, that was for sure.

“Oh, uh. On second thought, I don't think I'm hungry.”

She seemed a little disappointed by that news. “Oh.

I felt obliged to say… Something. “I mean, I'm sure whatever you have on hand is delicious-”

She grinned. “Oh, it really is. I think that- That my neighbors really adore it when they get the chance to try some!” she added, after a brief pause.

Huh. It's not often I meet someone so proud of their cooking. Especially for cooking they won't be having themselves. “I'm sure,” I repeated. “You mind if I take off my shirt?” It only seemed polite to ask, since it was her apartment.

She immediately nodded. “Yes, please. I mean- I wouldn't want you to get heat-stroke or something, right?”

What an understanding wolf. Then again, she was living on Flock Street, so it was no wonder she seemed to understand sheep. And that really did bring up the question that had been gnawing at the back of my mind for a while now. “So… What's a wolf doing living among the sheep?”

As I asked, I tugged my sweat stained shirt off. I had thought to put it underneath me, so I got less sweat on her couch, but that didn't really seem like a feasible option. Instead, I just folded it up and set it on the floor instead.

She waved a paw flippantly. “Oh, you know. Couldn't stand my family anymore, so I moved to the last place they'd want to be,” she said easily, as if it had been rehearsed. “You aren't from around here, right? If you were, you'd probably already be inside before I found you.

She was staring at me a bit more now that I had my shirt off. I couldn't imagine why- It's not like she wouldn't have seen a sheered sheep before on Flock Street. Well, maybe not a shirtless one. “Yeah. I live just a few streets down from here, on Pack Street.”

She seemed familiar enough with the area to be surprised. “You mean that run-down predator-only street east from here?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Well, not predator only anymore, obviously.” Come to think of it, I think Flock Street was prey only until this wolf had moved in at some point. Then again, with predators only making up ten percent of the population, that wasn't really all that surprising to me.

I rested in silence, for a while. It was nice to just sit back and relax, sometimes. Maybe it was the familiarity of a street I'd known so well, and maybe it was the fact I wasn't surrounded by predators for once, but I found myself enjoying the peace and quiet.

Of course, just because I wasn't surrounded by predators didn't mean there wasn't one still around. My host padded over into sight as I stared up at the ceiling. “You mind if I join you?” she asked, pressing her paws together.

I sat up, rubbing my head a little. “Yeah. I mean, it's your couch, right?” As I shifted from lying down to sitting up, the wolf sat down next to me, occupying the newly freed space almost immediately.

She was sitting almost a little too close, actually. I could feel her fur against my bare skin, and it made me shudder with discomfort. Sheep didn't like being exposed, without their wool. I'd gotten used to bearing it, but being touched was still a little too much. “Thanks,” she replied briefly, before noticing my discomfort. “…Are you okay?”

I pulled away a little. “It's a sheep thing. You don't really… We don't like being touched without our wool. It's like being naked.”

A second later, I wondered why I had said that. It was obvious she was thinking something along the same lines, since she was obviously blushing once more, glancing away. “Oh, gosh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I mean, that's got to be- Oh, gosh.”

She actually seemed really worked up about it. Enough to be closer to incoherent then anything else. “Hey, relax. I mean, it bothered me, but you didn't do it on purpose and you stopped when I told you, so…” She seemed so nice. I knew I'd definitely be a lot more upset if it had been one of the twins (Because they were relentless perverts with no good intentions), or Charlie (Because she had no shame, and tended to do whatever she wanted with intent to apologize later.)

She still seemed nervous, and a new question occurred to me. “Wait. You live on flock street. How do you not know that sheep don't like to be touched when they're shorn?”

She was silent for a moment. Then, she sighed, and flopped down the opposite direction, sprawling out across the other half of the couch. She murmured something inaudible.

“What?”

“I said… I said I've never touched one before, okay? No one around here will let me. They all just get anxious whenever I come anywhere near them.”

That sounded… Really, really lonely. “I wish I knew what that was like,” I muttered. “In Pack Street, all the predators want to feel me up. Even when I don't want them to, they'll just go for it anyway.” I vaguely wondered why the others put up with the twins. Or did they molest everyone who moved in?

That was a distinct possibility.

My host seemed even more distressed now. “O-oh. Well…” she started, only to trail off.

I glanced at her. What- Oh. “I mean, I'm not saying you're some kind of pervert who wants to touch a sheep at their most vulnerable or anything, but-”

I paused. Huh. I'd never known a wolf could look so guilty before. “Oh.”

She cringed. “I'm sorry. I just can't help it. Look, I'll… I'll just go to my room. You can stay as long as you want. Wait out the heat wave.”

She stood up, and left the room while I stared at her. This was not what I expected. It sort of explained while she was being so nice, but…

She seemed ashamed of herself. Like she knew she shouldn't want it, and would rather go chastise herself in solitude then kick me out into the cold- Or the heat, as it were. I kind of felt bad about it.

I deliberated for a moment, then got up to follow her. It wasn't hard to find the door to her room, as it was the only door closed. I knocked.

“Uh, hey.”

Silence. Then:

“What is it?” She seemed quiet, now. Timid. Like I'd cowed her by discovering her secret desire. She sounded so submissive. This entire situation was weird.

“Can I come in?”

“Why- Why would you want to?”

I took that as a yes, and opened the door. It was a pretty standard apartment, not unlike the one I had back when I lived here. It was a lot less run down then my accommodations on Pack Street.

The wolf was lying in her bed, with her blankets pulled up. Her dark red blanket contrasted noticeably with her darker gray fur. “Did you… Need something?”

God, why was I even considering this. Oh, yeah: Because she seemed really nice, and I didn't want her to beat herself up over something she clearly didn't like about herself.

Even if it would make me uncomfortable.

“I…” I started, before changing tracks. “You want to touch me,” I stated.

It wasn't a question, and she shrunk back against the bed, pulling up her blankets. She didn't say anything.

It was kind of heartbreaking, in a generic sort of way. Seeing a stranger so pitiful. I didn't have any personal connection to her or anything, but I still had a heart. “I… I'll let you. If you want,” I murmured.

She sat up straight with surprise. “What- Really?”

I took a deep breath. “Yeah. I mean, I know you're not some kind of pervert, since you'd rather just lock yourself in here then throw me out. So… I guess I trust you not to go too far, I mean?”

I had no idea what I meant. But I really couldn't believe someone so obviously flustered could mean me harm, and that did a lot to sooth any anxiety I had towards the idea.

She still didn't look like she believed me. “You mean it?” she asked, leaning forward and scrutinizing me, as if I was trying to pull a trick on her.

I crossed my arms. “I mean, if you really don't think this'll work, I can just head back-”

“No!” she burst out, before covering her muzzle with a paw. “I mean… Please. Stay.”

I stayed. Furthermore, I hoofed my way over to the bed, sitting on the side of it.

Awkward silence reigned. My guest seemed almost paralyzed with anxiety, like she was afraid that if she made the first move she'd screw it up and drive me away. It was written plain on her face.

I wondered when I'd learned how to read a predator's expression so well.

I sighed, and scooted over. God, this was weird. No one back home could ever, ever know. I spied one of her paws pressed to the bed from when she'd suddenly sat up, and slowly brought my own hoof down next to it. When she didn't shy away from the proximity, I gently touched it with my own. She didn't flinch, but something about her expression tightened.

I gently picked up her paw, shifting just a little closer still. I took the paw, and pressed it to my chest with a slight shiver. It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Probably because I was the one in control. “Better?”

Her anxiety seemed to fall away as it was replaced by keen interest. She gently rubbed her paw-pads against my bare skin. “It's so soft…”

I had to admit, so was she. Her paw-pads were a little rough, but the fur of her paw was warm, and unusually soft. I wondered if whatever fur conditioner she used would work on wool. “Yeah. Sheep are soft,” I agreed.

She leaned forward, tentatively pressing a second paw to my chest. Then, all at once, she rushed forward, and some part of my mind was shouting at me for trusting a predator--

Oh.

She was hugging me. Hugging me tightly, strong arms holding me close to her form as the side of her muzzle brushed past my neck. She let out a long, slow breath.

“Sorry. Sorry, I just… I've wanted to do that for so long,” she admit, nuzzling into my neck affectionately. I squirmed a little, not sure I had signed on for this.

“Hug a sheep?” I guessed, wondering how I could somehow free myself and still be polite.

She gave a soft huff. “No- Well, yes. Very much yes. But I'd settle for getting close to anyone after so many years.”

And I thought her life sounded lonely before. “Oh.” I wondered if it was a pack thing. I didn't understand pack dynamics very well, but I knew that packs were a thing. I knew wolves tended to want to be in groups.

She gave a small laugh, hugging me tighter. “And when I finally do get to be close to someone, it's even with that hot guy who keeps sitting in front of my apartment. Like the answer was literally sitting in front of me all of this time, and I was too shy to even ask.”

Well, that made sense. As lonely as she seemed, you just didn't go up to people on the street and ask if you could hug them--

Wait. “…Did you call me 'that hot guy?'” I asked her.

I felt her tense up in the hug. “Oh shoot.” She slowly withdrew, drawing back into the bed. “Oh, no.”

I put two and two together. Her nervousness. Her idea that I was hot. The fact she had prey food available on hand, and was a wolf living among the sheep. “You're a preyophile?”

She flinched. “L-look, I…” She sagged over. “-I know. You can go, now. Just don't tell anyone. Please.”

I really should go. The smart thing to do would be to go get my shirt and start walking home. I could probably last in the heat long enough to get back to Pack Street, assuming it hadn't gotten worse outside.

I didn't. I looked at her, and did the first thing I could think of that might cheer her up.

I hugged her.

This time, she was the one caught by surprise. “It's… Okay, I guess. You can't really help who you're interested in, right? What… You're interested in.” I guess I understood what it was like to have a taste for what I wasn't supposed to.

She started to wag. I could hear her tail brushing back against the bed.

Then, she pushed me back, and kissed me.

I froze. Then, I shoved her back. “What the hell?”

She stared at me with incomprehension. “But… But I thought you-”

I thought she was going to cry. Then, a few seconds later, she actually started to, turning away and hiding her face.

Oh. I mean, I was affronted, obviously, by suddenly getting kissed when I didn't want to be.

But she had someone who she'd opened up to, who she was attracted to, who she thought she finally understood her reject her just as she made her move.

I felt kind of like a dick, even if I knew it wasn't intended. “I- God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- To send those signals. Or to shove you like that. You just caught me by surprise,” I mumbled.

She sniffled. “No. No, I'm a freak, I know it. It's wrong for me to- To want prey like that.”

I furrowed my brow. “Now, come on-”

She sunk back, reaching for her blanket to hide behind. “You don't have to lie to make me feel better.”

I put a paw on her hand as it landed on her blanket, and she froze. “Listen. It's… Okay to like prey, I guess.”

Was it? I was so confused. But I knew how I could clear it up for myself. “Come here.”

She looked uncertain. “Why?”

“Because it's my turn to touch you.”

She flushed deeply, and I realized that came out far more sexually then I had anticipated. “Wait,” I stated. “Just… Yeah.” I moved closer to her one more time. By now, she was pressed up against the head of the bed. She had no more space to move back. I gently took her paw in my hoof, and used my other hoof to gently stroke along the back of it.

She really did have very pretty fur. “How do you get your fur like this? It's so soft,” I admit, glancing up at her face.

The shift in topic was so abrupt, her worry didn't seem to have a chance to keep up. “My fur? Uh, I pick this up from a little shop in Sahara Square--”

I couldn't believe it. “Sahara Square? You're kidding me. No way they make something so good for fur out in that heat.”

She laughed. “I know, right? I couldn't believe it either. I figured anyone who could actually use this stuff would bake alive out there. But no, it really works wonders.”

I shook my head. “You've gotta let me borrow a bottle of this stuff before I go. Even an empty one, if it'll give me an address or something."

She shook her head in return. “Nope, it's home-made. Comes in these little glass bottles with just the name of the fragrance on it. Isn't it great?”

I gingerly sniffed her paw. Yeah, I had to admit it really was nice. Light and unobtrusive, like a breeze. She had a sharp nose, so I bet she appreciated that. “Yeah, it really is. You think it'll work on wool?”

She blushed. “Oh, well… I'll admit I was hoping the same thing when I got it.”

Oh, yeah. I'd gotten distracted from the fact she was a preyophile with my admiration for her taste in personal grooming. “Oh, yeah. So…”

I took her paw, and pressed it to my chest again, like before. “So, before I got distracted being jealous of your taste in fur care-” She couldn't hold back a small smile at that, which I took as a victory. “-I was trying to say… Well. Your fur is really nice, and I guess you're kind of cute, so if it's okay for me to think you look good, you can think I look good--”

“Wait,” she interrupted. “You think I'm cute?”

Did I say that?

Did I MEAN that?

…Well, now I knew how she felt. “Uh,” I stated eloquently. “I… Guess I did. I guess I do,” I admit, looking just as uncertain as I felt. “…Is that okay?”

She grinned. “Can I hug you again?” At least she's learned her lesson about proper consent.

Well, I suppose… “Yes, you can hug me again.”

She didn't, though. Instead, she flushed slightly under her fur as she pulled her shirt off. Before I had a chance to avert my eyes, she pulled me into a close snuggle.

I felt that this shouldn't really be counted under the umbrella of consent for a hug. And yet… It felt good.

Really good.

Her fur pressed against my bare skin, even softer then my wool usually was. Her muzzle was once more tucked over my shoulder.

I hadn't been sure if she was cute before when I said it. But I'm pretty sure I could admit I was attracted to her body now, if only for how good it felt pressed against me.

God. This was how it started, wasn't it? “Why did you take off your shirt?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the fact that I was apparently becoming a predophile after all.

I could hear the grin in her tone. She seemed a lot more confident now that I had very clearly accepted her. “Well… You're shirtless. I felt it was only fair if I returned the favor.”

I tried to think of what to say about that. I settled for honesty. “I like it. If you were trying to charm sheep with your fur conditioner, it's working.”

She snorted, gently rubbing my back with a paw. I had to admit, I was kind of learning to appreciate pred hugs. At least, from predators who weren't jerks like my neighbors. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, it only really works when you bare enough fur to really appreciate, but…” I didn't know what I was trying to say. “…Yeah, I got nothing. I just know this is a good hug.”

She pulled back, and a part of me regretted that.

Then I noticed that she wasn't wearing any kind of bra. I hadn't even realized with how focused I had been on finally feeling a natural texture up against my skin again. “Oh.”

She stood, slipping off the bed from the other side of the bed. She quickly freed herself from her pants, letting them fall to the floor and stepping out of them.

“…Oh.”

She rejoined me on the bed, and I felt obliged to speak up. “I… I don't know if--”

“Shh,” she hushed me, pressing a finger to my lips. “All I want to do is cuddle. I like feeling your bare skin against me. You like feeling my bare fur against you.” She laid her paws atop my shoulders. “Let's just cuddle. We can see where it goes from there.”

I didn't know how to feel about any of this. Which made me all the more confused when I heard my own voice answer her. “Okay.”

Her paws slipped down, gently pulling my shorts off. My hooves failed to stop her, and she pulled me close.

 

 

 

I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. I didn't know how to feel about last night.

We didn't have sex. But we could have.

At some point, having a cute, interested, naked women pressing her soft body against me had made my body betray me.

But even when I had an obvious erection straining my underwear, she hadn't made any moves. She just affectionately nibbled at my shoulder, and helped me tug my underwear down so I could be comfortable.

I knew she was interested. She'd been pretty open about that from the start, since she started the full-on naked cuddles thing. But she seemed more interested in just keeping me close and lavishing me with physical affection then trying to tempt me into something I wasn't sure I'd be comfortable with.

I couldn't picture anyone back in pack street doing something like this. I knew Charlie had wanted to cuddle up with me one night, but I still didn't understand what her deal was, or why she was so panicked at the idea I'd throw her out. Maybe predators just liked to cuddle, sometimes?

And now here I was, feeling awkward. Part of it was me not understanding my feelings about last night.

The other part of it was my morning wood. And I didn't have a chance to do anything with it before I felt a gentle paw brushing against me, slightly rough paw-pads pressing into my skin and making me shiver.

I felt her muzzle poke over my shoulder. “As much as I want to help you with that, you can go use my bathroom instead if you really want.”

I contemplated the idea of jerking off in her bathroom, like she suggested. Despite how open she was being with her body, and how much she was obviously enjoying my own, she was still trying to be considerate after her mistake with consent last night.

I thought about it, and rolled over, nuzzling her nose as it passed my own. “Nah. It's Saturday. I can wait.”

I planned to just let it go away on it's own. That took a lot longer then first anticipated, pressed up against her fur. But I didn't mind.

We ended up sleeping in a little, anyway. Neither of us felt inclined to get out of bed.

 

 

 

I sat down at her table. Eventually, urgent needs slightly more pressing then my arousal (And maybe hers, as far as I knew) had forced us to step into her bathroom after all, one after another. And then, since we were up anyway, she'd offered to get me breakfast. I hadn't seen any reason to decline.

There was just one more surprise left in store for me as she opened the fridge, peering inside. “So, what are you thinking of? I've got cereal, of course. A little salad. Or just lettuce, if you like it plain.”

I leaned over, looking over her shoulder. “Well, I don't think there's anyone who hates fruity p- Wait.” I squinted, standing up and shuffling up behind her. The sound of my hooves on the kitchen tiles made her turn to face me, which caused my view of her open fridge to no longer be obscured. My suspicions were confirmed.

“You don't have any predator food at all,” I observed. “What do YOU eat?”

She opened her mouth to make something up, thought about it, and closed it. Instead, she just closed the fridge. “You know what? I guess I can be honest for once. I eat prey food.”

I stared at her blankly. She didn't seem to notice, going on.

“God, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to admit that to someone. I know, it's so weird for predator to even want prey food when it would make most of us sick just to try it, but…”

I stepped forward and hugged her. I couldn't believe it. I'd never actually met a kindred spirit like this. She didn't seem to understand, but she returned the hug all the same, gently rubbing at my back.

“I never caught your name,” I admit to her after pulling away, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly.

She seemed to think the same. “Oh. I guess I never offered it. I'm Caroline Gray,” she offered, before opening the fridge and pulling out a jug of milk. “You can call me Carrie, though.”

“Remmy Cormo,” I answered her unanswered question in reply. “And, uh… Remmy. I guess.”

Breakfast went well. I was mostly lost in thought throughout a lot of it. I still didn't know if I was a predophile now, or if Charlie had been onto something and predators and prey really were meant to cuddle after all.

I did know one thing, though, as I scribbled out my phone number and left it on the table, while Carrie brought her bowl back to the sink.

I wasn't going to be sitting outside on my walk home anymore.


End file.
